Personal Ads and a Saga Gone Too Far
by Rocket-Strife
Summary: Vegeta has been gardening, and Cell answers a personal ad


Personal ads and a Saga gone Too Far.  
  
A Cell Saga Parody  
  
By Strife  
  
Disclaimer: Everybody here belongs to someone else, not I. Sue me and a small army of Cell Juniors will come for you in the night.  
  
Vegeta groaned and wiped the sweat off his brow - it had been a tough job, but it was worth every moment of back breaking labor. The flower beds were immaculate, the lawn trimmed, and the new wall stood proudly in the sunlight. Bulma would be impressed. She had better be impressed. Or else the Sayijin had the potential to go catatonic.  
  
"Damn woman." Vegeta grunted to himself, dusting off his princely lycra jumpsuit. Two days before the Cell Games, when he could be in the Hyperbolic time chamber hidden away from the vile household chores, and instead the blue haired harpy drags him towards the garden by his hair. The hair which had the receding hairline and certainly didn't need to be yanked so brutally like that. "Damn woman!" Vegeta repeated, shaking his fist at the sky.  
  
"What's shaking?" Came Yamcha's voice as he came strolling into the yard; Vegeta's eyes narrowed and indeed, he looked scary. Lunging, he leapt at Yamcha and landed rather neatly in front of him.  
  
"Don't stand on the grass!" He ordered with a tone of supreme authority.  
  
"Why not?" Yamcha whined.  
  
"Don't question me, stupid human!" Vegeta retorted, stamping his foot on the ground and pouting. Yamcha blinked a few times before Puar came flittering out from inside the house. Damn weird looking thing it is. I mean, what the hell is it's purpose? Just like Kakarrot. Vegeta thought with a sigh, staring at the flying ball of blue fluff as it hovered right above Yamcha's right ear. Vegeta fought the strong urge to lift up the hose and blast it, and pouting again, he stomped delicately towards the house, trying not to inhumanely trample the blades of grass as he did so. Yamcha watched him go, distinctly hearing the words "I'm a prince, dammit all..." as the door slammed shut.  
  
~  
  
Cell yawned, scratched the scaly green thing protruding from his head, and yawned again. Life was so dull at the top, and the only thing he had to keep him going were his stash of girlie magazine conveniently buried underneath the loose tile of his Cell Games arena.  
  
"I'm bored." He stated to no one in particular.  
  
"Ah, quit your bitching, you horrendous piece of green fluff." Came Android Eighteen's disembodied voice out of nowhere.  
  
"Hey, how about some of these rudey mags?" Seventeen's voice suddenly suggested.  
  
"Seven-TEEN." Eighteen whined.  
  
Cell muttered an unprintable curse. "Both of you be quiet! I'll find a way to digest you yet!"  
  
"Oh yeah." Eighteen sounded snide. "I know you. You'll have to burp us up sooner or later!"  
  
"But what about these rudey magazines?" Said Seventeen pointedly. "C'mon Cell Man!"  
  
"Kami-dammit, no." Eighteen snapped. "Every single time, without fail, you know what happens."  
  
"Oh, the full on big green frankensteinian monster chubby?"  
  
Both Androids simultaneously let out a big "Ewwwwwwwww!"  
  
Cell covered his face with his palms and tried not to cry. "It's all your fault that I can't get a date!" He squealed. "You're such Negative Nancies! If Doctor Gero was still alive I would be so telling on you."  
  
"And to think, he inhaled us." Seventeen's voice sounded poignantly. "Anyway, you can't blame us for you not getting a date. It's not our fault that you're a big green ugly monstrosity who doesn't know the correct use of his own equipment and isn't even fully functional in that area. I was fully functional, so who's perfect now, huh? Who? Who? Ha! Perfect being my ass!"  
  
"And besides, you stink." Eighteen added.  
  
Cell leapt to his feet and began prancing about in a huff. "I do not stink!"  
  
"Huh, must be him." Eighteen sighed.  
  
"Bitch." Seventeen retorted as Cell began blasting hunks of mountain range.  
  
~  
  
"Gosh darn it!" Came Goku's voice from the kitchen as Vegeta tried his hardest to concentrate on the magazine he had found underneath Bulma's bed. He figured that he would try and learn a little about earth's women, particularly when they were all clad in scanty little bikini's on the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. Another clatter of pots caused Vegeta's left eye to twitch.  
  
"Wom...Kakarrot, what are you doing in there?!" He demanded. Goku's head poked round the kitchen door.  
  
"Cooking!" He replied, raising a saucepan as if it were a weapon of destruction. Vegeta jolted backwards in his cushy chair as Goku swung it about his head, sending streams of rice raining about the sitting room. A single grain landed sharply on the bugging eyebrow above Vegeta's left eye. Goku was looking at him like, and he hated to admit this, an idiot.  
  
"Whatever." Vegeta muttered gruffly.  
  
Suddenly and without warning, Krillin was too looking around the doorframe. Vegeta rolled his eyes in disdain.  
  
"I will not eat anything touched or even looked at by that demented midget!" He spat.  
  
"Demented midget?" Krillin retorted. "Self advertisement is lame, Vegeta. And if I recall, I saw you levitating to the top shelf of the cupboard yesterday!"  
  
Vegeta went bright red. "I just felt like using my powers, okay!"  
  
Goku scratched the back of his head. "C'mon guys, we can all eat together."  
  
"If there's any left." Vegeta mumbled under his breath, going back to his reading material. Krillin stared at him blankly, then wrinkled his nose as if he had eaten something distasteful.  
  
"Vegeta...what is that that you're reading?"  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"You're reading a women's weekly! Oh man! The Prince of the Sayijin's is reading women's weekly!"  
  
Vegeta stared at the magazine, before throwing it down and flinging himself at Krillin. And the fight ensued. Mysteriously, on the kitchen table, which had not yet shattered under the weight of the two hyped up midgets.  
  
"Stop it you guys! I'm really hungry!" Goku cried in all seriousness. Vegeta didn't even bother looking at Goku as he pounded Krillin's bald dome on the shiny finish of Bulma's hardwood table. Krillin, who looked very pathetic at this point of time, rolled about trying to dodge the Sayijin's prince's blows, that is until Vegeta decided to hit him with one of his ki.  
  
"Argh shit!" Krillin screeched as the table exploded and he was sent hurtling into the wall. Goku watched and scratched his head.  
  
"Gosh."  
  
"Shut up Kakarrot." Vegeta snarled, adjusting his hair accordingly.  
  
~  
  
Cell chewed on the pencil thoughtfully as he studied the piece of paper and the personal ads laid out before him on the Cell Games battle arena. Two days wasn't much, but perhaps, just perhaps, he could get a date before he blasted the planet earth into teeny weeny little pieces.  
  
"How old are these personals?" Cell questioned himself, scanning over the first ad.  
  
Ad # 67 - Frieza  
  
Single M seeks F/M/Android/Well whatever for good times. Must love a little bit of planet blasting, world conquest, walks along the beach. Evil or non evil, drop me a line or just breeze up to what's left of Namek. Ta!  
  
-Frieza  
  
Cell blinked a few times. "Well, what have I got to lose?"  
  
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Goku blasted the dude." The slightly fuzzy and disembodied voice of Seventeen echoed from nowhere. Eighteen chuckled.  
  
"I'll just send it to the other world then!" Cell snapped in reply. "I'm a superior being! Surely I can manage a little courier mail to the other friggen world!"  
  
"Makes me wonder." The voice of Seventeen replied in a smug tone.  
  
Cell wondered if he'd really hurt himself if he punched himself in the stomach, before deciding to just go for it. Seventeen wheezed from Cell's abdominal tract as his pasty fist met up with his abs of steel.  
  
"Hey!" Eighteen snapped sharply. "Watch what you're fucking doing!"  
  
Cell ignored her, and the hacking of Seventeen, and began on his reply, occasionally nudging his gut.  
  
Dear #67 Frieza  
  
I heard that you're dead, but I think I'm attracted to you. Despite your obvious desperation, I think we should get to know each other a little better. How did blasting Namek go - I'm blasting Earth to fucking smithereens! Oh, and I contain many two pushy androids in my gut, is that gonna be a problem?  
  
Right back soon, or I will blast you to bits.  
  
#567 Cell  
  
(The Perfect Model)  
  
"That was beautiful." Seventeen mock sniveled. Cell sucked in his face, clenched his teeth, and punched himself in the balls.  
  
"Well that was bright." Eighteen commented as Cell rolled about on the ground in pain.  
  
~  
  
Funny things happen sometimes, but more often than not they happen to Vegeta when he's really, really pissed. Now was such a time. He had just polished off his third princely glass of Master Roshi's moonshine, and his mind was whizzing with dreadful, dreadful pickup lines which no doubt Bulma would bear the brunt of later. He was barely expecting the Cell Junior bouncing towards him, carrying an envelope in one hand and what appeared to be a copy of Conquerors Personal Ad Magazine in the other. He nodded in deep understanding.  
  
"I subscribe to that." He slurred, sipping on a mint julep. With ridiculous ease, he caught the Cell Junior by the top of the head, snatched away the letter and magazine, and shoved it into the remains of Bulma's table. "I never receive any replies. They all must be writing to this Garlic Junior Individual right here. The bastards!"  
  
Flipping through the pages, he managed to find his own ad.  
  
# 89 Vegeta  
  
Seeks woman. Must cook. I am Prince Vegeta, fear me!  
  
Vegeta  
  
The Cell Junior appeared to be getting up, but a swift if not awkward and drunken kick leveled the blue Cell mini-me. Snatching up Cell's letter, he grunted, screwed it up and threw it into the trash.  
  
"Frieza!?" Vegeta demanded, puffing up his chest and parading around the kitchen. "Frieza gets more replies than I? They will pay!" And sitting down, he grabbed a piece of paper and began a very untidy scrawl with a nearby pencil. When it was done, it went something like this.  
  
Dear #567 Cell,  
  
I was enthralled by your stunning letter and I must meet you! Enough with these scrolls! Come to the other world, you sound...dreamy. You will be my woman! I am Vegeta...cross that...I am Frieza, fear me! Bwahahahahahahahaha!  
  
#67 Frieza  
  
Kicking the Cell Junior in order to encourage consciousness, Vegeta thrust the letter into his pudgy white hand, backhanded him across the head, and threw him out the window. Returning to his seat, his swagger more resembling a stagger, he downed his mint julep with one gulp.  
  
~  
  
The ridiculous nature of the proceedings to date had to give at some point, and now was this point. Cell enthusiastically received `Frieza's' letter, packed his bags and shot off to the other world. The Z fighters set off towards the Cell Games in all seriousness, although Yamcha really wished he had something crunchy to munch on whilst flying there, and Trunks was just plain miserable, he was unable to find the right shade of purple in Just for Sayijin's hairdye and was feeling rather self conscious. The Z fighters landed before the Cell arena.  
  
"Well, I love what he's done with the place." Commented Krillin. Vegeta, who had a rather large and pounding headache, flicked Krillin in the back of the skull. Android Sixteen stared blankly as usual.  
  
"Gosh, where is he?" Said Goku loudly. Gohan's eyes were wide.  
  
"Does this mean we can go home?"  
  
"No, we can't go friggen home!" Vegeta snapped, feeling very uncomfortable about being at the back of the group, considering his height and all. "We must fight Cell! I must prove how much stronger I am than you, Kakarrot!"  
  
"Well, it is Tuesday, half price at the drive ins," Commented Tien. "Nope, I don't think we'll be able to get in contact with him."  
  
"But it's day time." Said Yamcha.  
  
"Don't change the subject." Retorted Tien.  
  
"Just like you changed my objective." Sixteen added flatly, fighting the strange urge to cuddle Goku like he would a cute little bunny rabbit.  
  
By this point, Vegeta had punched Krillin in the back of the head for no apparent reason. He had just moved forward to slap him awake again, when Goku approached.  
  
"Uh, I think you hit Krillin too much Vegeta."  
  
"You can't be serious Kakarrot!" Vegeta scoffed. Goku shrugged.  
  
"Okay, go on, I know how cranky you get." Vegeta nodded, then laughed, which sounded more like a feeble cough.  
  
"You almost had me there!" Squinting, he began to decide which angle would be best to slap Krillin awake, before hitting him with a big one to the head. Krillin sat bolt upright.  
  
"What was that for, you jacked up midget?!"  
  
Vegeta chose to ignore that remark. "Because, I'm me, and you're not."  
  
"Well duh." Trunks rolled his eyes, to which Vegeta spun and narrowed his left eye, which was twitching uncontrollably.  
  
"You want some of this, fancy boy?" He waved his fist about menacingly, before scowling. "Ugh, I hate being a parent."  
  
"I don't appreciate your jabs up my lineage!" Trunks wailed.  
  
Everybody looked bored. Tien pouted, crossed his arms, and perched on an oddly shaped rock.  
  
"I'm giving him five minutes, tops."  
  
~  
  
S/G/M Namek seeks green woman. I enjoy saving /destroying the world, depends on my mood. I have big muscles.  
  
#783 Piccolo  
  
Trunks looked up from the magazine. He had no idea why it was blowing along the Cell arena, and had even less idea why a large percentage of the Z fighters had ads in it. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so tragic.  
  
S/W/M martial artist and Z fighter. Seeking anything that moves. I enjoy having sex with lots of women and saving the world, but I promise, if I get with you I'll try really hard to me monogamous, okay? I have big muscles and even a flying kitty!  
  
#231 Yamcha  
  
Trunks blinked. Well, it was mildly amusing.  
  
S/W/M Z Fighter seeks woman for fun times. I must warn you, I have an extra eye in my forehead. It looks kind of like a big whitehead. Whether that's a good thing...I don't know. My hobby is beating up on a small mime.  
  
#18 Tien  
  
Nobody was really expecting Cell to come blasting from the otherworld looking like he had been previously crying. Trunks dropped the magazine as Cell inexplicably blasted a huge hole in his gut. He didn't know quite where he was supposed to be clutching; the gaping hole or the dropped and incredibly amusing magazine. Eventually, he resigned to falling over.  
  
"Look what you did to Trunks!" Said Gohan, grabbing Trunks. Trunks opened one eye.  
  
"Let me die my dramatic death now!" He said, falling limply into Gohan's arms. Vegeta did his best to look upset, pinching himself as hard as he could to induce tears.  
  
"Which of you sabotaged my personal ad?!" Cell demanded. Goku rolled over from where he was sleeping, snuggling closer into a nearby rock. He snored delicately. Gohan picked up the magazine and he threw it, smacking Cell directly in the head.  
  
"Way harsh kid!" Seventeen's voice sounded. "Next time, try not to hit me too, ya dope!"  
  
"Trippy!" Yamcha commented enthusiastically.  
  
Cell stamped his feet like an irate toddler. "Tell me dammit, who sabotaged my personal ad?!"  
  
"Personal ad?" Vegeta rasped. "What a joke."  
  
Trunks suddenly sat up. "But dad, you all..."  
  
Vegeta sharply hit him with a ball of energy. "I have to let you go when I'm supposed to. So die." He shrugged. "...Kids."  
  
"He's an uppity little snotball, isn't he Seventeen?" Eighteen commented. Vegeta looked as if he had just sucked a lemon, and he lunged, punching Cell directly in the head. Cell fell to the ground.  
  
"What did I do?!" He demanded.  
  
"You're completely right, Eighteen. Not only that, he looks like he headbutted a train"  
  
Vegeta landed a very neat looking soccer kick to Cell's face with the aid of his pointy toed boot. Cell looked rather feeble.  
  
"We want to go now." Seventeen stated flatly, as Vegeta bashed Cell's head on the ground much like he had done to Krillin much earlier. "It sucks here, you nutjob."  
  
"I am not a nutjob!" Cell screamed.  
  
"Buddy, you're constantly hearing the voices of a pair of disembodied androids. You ARE a nut job!" Eighteen snapped. "Now what are you?"  
  
"A nutjob." Cell replied begrudgingly. "Kami-dammit, I hate you."  
  
"Shouldn't have gobbled us up then!" Sing songed Seventeen. Cell shuddered, before making his decision and blowing up into a thousand different shades of purple. Goku stirred and then finally woke up.  
  
"Did I miss something?" He questioned. The rest of the Z Fighters still looked bored, and there was purple splattered everywhere. An uneasy silence settled over the Cell arena. Piccolo looked up knowingly at the sky.  
  
"If we hurry, we might catch the end of Golden Girls."  
  
"Bitchin'!" Said Yamcha. Goku yawned in agreement.  
  
"But what about Trunks?" Krillin questioned, pointing at the purple haired Z Fighter sprawled out rather gracelessly on the hard, rocky ground. Vegeta stared at his son.  
  
"I let him go when I was supposed to." He gave Krillin a dark look. "You're not far behind, demented midget."  
  
"Eeeeee!" And Krillin was off in a flash, following the rest of the Z Fighters as the bizarre voice of a narrator settled over the valley. Spouting off about some badly translated crap, Seventeen's voice strangely interrupted.  
  
"We were so much better than this guy."  
  
"Shut up, Seventeen."  
  
And a faint bickering was heard on the wind, and then nothing more.  
  
End. 


End file.
